


Kindergarten tactics

by scudeliwu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Holding Hands, M/M, McGonagall has enough, Mutual Pining, Ron is the emotion expert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scudeliwu/pseuds/scudeliwu
Summary: After a fistfight between Harry and Malfoy, McGonagall has had enough. If both boys are behaving like kindergarteners they should be treated as such: Harry and Malfoy have to hold hands.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 122





	Kindergarten tactics

Harrys fist connected with Malfoys pretty jawline with a satisfying crushing sound. Though his triumphant smirk faltered, when Malfoy rammed his knee into Harrys stomach. Doubling over, the Gryffindor lost his breakfast.

Straightening up again, Harry prepared to throw another punch, but was suddenly pressed into the wall with a wave of magic. He could see Malfoy faring not better next to him. McGonagall walked briskly through the crowd of bystanders and gave Harry a very disappointed look. She let her magic hold on both boys, who fell loudly to the floor.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. My office, now.” McGonagall said icily and stomped away.

Grudgingly, Harry followed. Malfoy did the same, but shoved Harry brutally aside when he passed him. Stumbling, Harry mumbled a tripping jinx. Malfoy barely held himself upright. And in the next second, both were shoving and pushing each other rather heatedly.

McGonagall turned around swiftly and fixed both boys with a hard glare. Then she grabbed each boys ear and dragged them not too gently into her office.

“Sit.” She demanded and they obeyed. McGonagall seemed pretty pissed off and if she was angry, she was even more frightening then Snape.

“I have no words to explain, just how disappointed I am with you both.”

“Professor, let me assure you, I am just as disappointed as you are. It was totally Potters fault. Potter got started the fight out of nowhere and now my jaw is broken.” Malfoy said politely and gave Harry a dirty look.

“Out of nowhere?” Harry yelled. “You provoked it! You made Nevilles potion explode!”

“Oh yeah? That idiots potion would have exploded, anyway. He doesn’t need my help for that.” Malfoy sneered. Well, as much as one could sneer with a half-broken jaw.

Harry made an angry sound and fisted Malfoys robes. He drew him in to…to what exactly? Punch him again in front of McGonagall? Harry wasn’t so sure anymore. Malfoys minty puffs of breath were really distracting.

McGonagalls hand slamming against the desk made Harry withdraw into his own chair.

“Gentleman, I had hoped that with aging you would become more mature. But apparently, despite adulthood, you have the mind of a kindergartener.” McGonagall admonished the boys. “Maybe you should be treated as such.”

She took Harrys and Malfoys wands, placing them on her desk. Then she performed a complicated pattern with her own wand, muttering a long incantation.

When McGonagall handed the wands back to their owners, she explained, “You have to hold hands for the rest of the day. Your wands only work, when you’re touching each other. That’s not an invitation to harm each other. Everything that hurts the other, you experience too. Spending some time together in forced proximity will hopefully teach you to behave appropriately for your age.”

Gaping, Harry looked from the professor to Malfoy, who looked equally as shocked. He looked to McGonagall again, waiting for her to call it all a joke and send them to Filch, so they could polish everything in the trophy room or something.

But the professor was dead serious. “Now, Mr. Potter if you would take Mr. Malfoys hand, please.” Voice not tolerating any argument, McGonagall gestured from Harry to Malfoy.

Reluctantly Harry made to grab Malfoy left hand, but Malfoy quickly snatched his hand away. “I’m lefthanded, you oaf”, Malfoy hissed and held his right hand out.

Harry took the offered hand in his own as if it would explode any moment. McGonagall then swished her wand other their loosely joined hands.

“You can readjust your hold any time, you need. But your hands will stick together otherwise, until I lift the charm tonight after dinner”, the professor explained.

“Ehm, professor.” Malfoy asked, blushing furiously and sounding absolutely mortified. “What if we–“ He closed his eyes, took a calming breath and tried again. “What about, when we have to go to the bathroom?”

Malfoys face was a pretty shade of pink, Harry noticed. Totally different from the angry red Rons cheeks would flush, when he was agitated.

“Do not worry, Mr. Malfoy. You can use the bathroom facilities privately. But you will be pulled back together after seven minutes, so you should not take too long.” McGonagall smiled in a way, that wasn’t reassuring at all.

“I know, your schedules are not the same today. So Mr. Potter, if you would be so good as to escort Mr. Malfoy to his classes and pick him up, after?” Not waiting for an answer, she dismissed them with a shooing wave of her hand. “That would be all. You can go now. I would advise a short trip to Madam Pomfrey.”

* * *

“I have a free period now. Where do you need to go?” Harry asked when they exited the infirmary, freshly healed and thoroughly scolded.

“Arithmancy” Malfoy answered shortly and took the lead by walking determinedly in long strides, dragging Harry with him. Thankfully, they didn’t encounter many students on their way.

Arriving at the Arithmancy classroom, Malfoy dropped Harrys hand as if burned and fled into the room, sparing Harry not one glance.

Staring at his own hand as if it was something foreign, Harry made his way to the Quidditch pitch. In the free periods he often flew to get his head free.

Up in the air, Harry let this mornings events replay in his head. Malfoy was very subdued this year. He made no comments against Harry, played no pranks. He ignored Harry, not even meeting his eyes in a staring context in the Great Hall. And Harry was sick of it.

He was used to being the center of Malfoys attention und without it, he kind of…missed it. Harry was waiting for an opportunity to touch Malfoy, to reassure himself, that Malfoy was indeed real and not just a picture of imagination.

The problem was that Malfoy ignored only him. The Slytherin was the same bossy brat as always to all the others. So, when Malfoy commented on Nevilles potion, Harry saw his chance to push himself into Malfoys focus and initiate a fight.

Malfoy didn’t even say something mean. He just kind of pointed out Nevilles flaws to guide him into salvaging the potion. Malfoy was helping Neville. When Harry approached them, determined to get a reaction out of Malfoy, the blonde looked up. Meeting Harrys eyes for the first time this school year, the Slytherin was too distracted to stir Nevilles bubbling potion, so it exploded.

Harry had tackled Malfoy to shield the potion from him. Saddling the blonde, Harry realized he just had rescued him. Confused about what it meant, relieved to finally touch Malfoy and panicking because he **touched** Malfoy, Harry tried to cover it up by punching the blonde.

Grey eyes flashed in anger and Malfoy fought back. Somehow, they made out into the hallway, where the situation escalated into a full on brawl.

Harry groaned and pulled his broom into a dive. So, yeah. He had started the fight, unprovoked. Now he had to analyze, what it all meant and what all those confusing feelings were, that he held towards Malfoy.

Landing on the ground, Harry made his way back up to the castle. Harry wasn’t good with feelings, he needed help for that.

Turns out, Ron was the expert on feelings in the trio. He was very perceptive when it came to others feelings (just his own feelings were a bit problematic, just look at him denying that he likes Hermione). Hermione was the cleverest of them but tended to analyze feelings on a too logical level. Also, she had Arithmancy now, so Ron would have to do, Harry thought.

He entered the common room and found the red head immediately, entranced in a game of chess with Neville. Looking up, Neville cried “Harry!” relieved to get a distraction. He was losing rather spectacularly at this point of the game and the chess pieces were having some sort of strike.

Ron looked up, too. Noticing Harrys striken look, he asked “You okay, mate? What held you up so long?”

“I’m fine.” Then Harry shook his head. “Actually, no, I’m not.” He sighed and let himself plop down next to Ron.

“Instead of getting detention because of the fight, Malfoy and I are to hold hands for the rest of the day.” Harry sighed again.

“You know Malfoy was only helping me in potions, right Harry?” Neville asked tentatively.

“Yeah, Neville, I know. That’s the problem, really. I’m just so confused. Malfoy ignores me all year and now he is helping people he always mocked? And, and…he won’t even look at me! And now I have to hold his hand all day and his hand is so soft and delicate, they feel so wrong in my calloused hands, but also kinda right? And did you know, Malfoy is lefthanded? How did I never notice this before? I mean, I know his favorite color is a dark forest green, almost black, and I know how he likes his tea, but I didn’t know he’s lefthanded?”

“Harry, you’re rambling”, Ron said amused. “I’m not sure, I really want you to realize this, because it’s Malfoy. But you can’t help what you feel and who you have feelings for, right? So, Harry. Have you noticed, you know very much about Malfoy without actually speaking to him, but by observing him?”

“Well, yeah.” Harry frowned. “But isn’t that normal? I mean, I should know things about my enemy, right?”

“Yes, yes. But you didn’t know all kinds of things about Snape, you weren’t that…obsessed… with him like you are with Malfoy.”

“Oh. But why do I feel so empty and angry about Malfoy ignoring me?”

“I’m getting there, mate. What else do you feel? What did you feel, when you held Malfoys hand?” Ron asked gently. He could just tell Harry, what he thought, Harry was feeling. But Hermione taught him, that it was better if people came to the realization themselves.

“I–I don’t know. It felt pretty good. I was happy he finally looked at me again. I want him to keep doing that. I got this warm feeling in my stomach and my–my heart fluttered when I touched him. I want to keep touching him.” Harry blushed. Figuring out his emotions was hard. There were just so many of them, when it came to the blonde.

“Good. So, what might those feelings mean?” Ron was patient. Really, you should award him with an Order of Merlin.

“Uhm.” Harry frantically searched for a name he could label all his emotions with. Had he ever felt so much for a person before?

“Come on, Harry!” Neville whispered, his hands folded as if in prayer. “You can do it!”

“Uhm”, Harry said again. He was nearly there, he felt it. “Maybe it’s, uh–kinda feels like lo–“  
Oh, shit. Harry’s really going to say it. “Fuck it. I’m in love with Malfoy, aren’t I?” Harry yelled and hid his face in a cushion.

Ron and Neville cheered. “Finally”, Neville cried. “Way to go, mate”, Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder.

“But”, Harry peeked out from under the cushion, “what am I supposed do, now?”

* * *

Armed with Ron’s advice (“Just talk wo him, mate.”) Harry went to pick Malfoy up from his Arithmancy class. Hermione was the first to exit the classroom.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” she exclaimed.

“Oh, uhm. I’m waiting for Malfoy. We’re supposed to hold hands all day as punishment for our fight earlier”, Harry explained, flushing a little.

“Hermione, just so you know, I spoke with Ron just now and, uhm” he fidgeted, fingers playing with the sleeves of his robe, “I realized, that I kind of like Malfoy.”

Before Hermione could answer though, the Slytherin came out of the room. Immediately, Harry felt a pull on his hand, pulling him towards the blonde. Heaving a sigh, Malfoy held out his hand which Harry took gently.

“Right, uhm. Lunch?” Harry asked. Malfoy nodded.

All the way to the Great Hall Hermione kept up a steady stream of onesided conversation and shooting Harry knowing looks. Harry tried to focus on her words and not on the turmoil of feelings inside of him. Everybody was staring at them and Malfoy ignored him again. His hand was so warm and soft, Harry had to suppress the desire to squeeze his hand and interlace their fingers.

Entering the Great Hall, Harry made to go to the Gryffindor table on his right. He didn’t get far though, because the hand he was holding tugged him to the left.

“If you think I would sit with a bunch of brutes, you are sorely mistaken, Potter”, Malfoy hissed and turned towards the Slytherin table.

“Well, I don’t want so sit with the Slytherins, either.” Harry pulled Malfoy to a stop.

“So, what. Am I supposed to give in, then, oh almighty Chosen One?” Malfoy spat angrily.

„Come off it, Malfoy. How about neutral territory? Hufflepuff table?” Harry asked, internally preening that Malfoy finally spoke normally to him.

“Ew, I don’t want to get sick. Whatever makes them so happy all day is surely contagious.” Malfoy grimaced.

Sighing, Harry dragged Malfoy to the table with blue robed people. “Ravenclaw it is.” Harry plopped down next to Luna Lovegood.

“Hey, Luna”, he greeted softly and began to fill his plate which wasn’t that easy with only one hand.

“Harry Potter, it’s so nice to see you.” Luna answered dreamily. “I see you’re wrackspurts have gotten away. I believe it’s thanks to your lovely company.” She peered around him at Malfoy, who sat stiffly and eyed the food suspiciously.

“Hello, Draco.” Luna said.

Malfoy looked up sharply. “Loon–ehm, Lovegood” he nodded curtly in her direction.

“Oh, please call me Luna. Any friend of Harrys is a friend of mine”, she said, solemnly smiling.

Harry coughed violently, while Malfoy spluttered, flushing that cute pink again. “I’m not–We’re not–Potter and I, we– we’re not friends” Malfoy finished lamely.

“Well, I think, you two look really good together, whatever your relationship is”, Luna winked at them, then took a bite of pudding and sighed contentedly.

Malfoy gave her an incredulous look. Harry just shrugged, feeling oddly happy with the knowledge of Luna approving his whatever-it-was with Malfoy.

* * *

The rest of lunch and the day, really, passed uneventfully to Harrys dismay. He tried to strike up a conversation, but Malfoy was back to ignoring him.

In class Malfoy would shush him, and in between classes he dragged Harry into the library where he chose a table directly in front of Madam Pince who hissed menacingly every time Harry made to ask Malfoy something.

Even after classes he was dragged into the library again. Extremely bored Harry turned page after page of his Quidditch magazine while Malfoy diligently did his homework. Harry hadn’t read a word of his magazine, focusing instead on Malfoys body warmth and the soft pressure on his hand.

Harry had trouble sitting still in his seat. He just found out, he was in love, dammit. And he currently held hands with the object of his desires. He wanted to squeeze Malfoys hand so badly, to rub circles on the back of that hand, to let his own hand travel up Malfoys arm, let his hand explore. Harrys agitation grew and when he was sure he would explode Malfoy said “Potter, would you stop that, already?”

Blinking, Harry turned to the blonde. “Stop what?” he asked confused. Did he do something with his hand? He glanced at their joined hands. Nope, no squeezing, no circling, no traveling.

“You’re flouncing your leg and it’s bloody annoying. I can’t concentrate, when you do that.” Malfoy looked pointedly on Harrys lap. Harry followed his gaze and truly, his leg bounced with increasing speed.

“Just, stop!” Malfoy hissed and pressed their joined hands onto Harrys leg, effectively stunning Harry into absolute stillness. Malfoy did not retract their hands from Harrys leg and therefor had to lean into the Gryffindor a bit. Harry could smell Malfoys shampoo, which surprisingly was sweet vanilla, and a scent that was purely Malfoy. Harry got dizzy and sucked in another breath. Merlin, let this moment never end!

But too soon Malfoy packed his school bag and dragged Harry into the Great Hall for dinner. They sat at the Ravenclaw table again.

“Oh, Draco, you look a little stressed.” Luna greeted when she sat down across from Malfoy. She looked at Harry, then back to Malfoy again. While reaching towards the pudding plate she said airily “Don’t worry, he reciprocates your feelings.”

Momentarily shocked Harry stared at Luna incredulously. Had she just outed Harry in front of Malfoy? Did Malfoy really return his feelings? Was Luna even speaking to him? Harry risked a sideways glance at the Slytherin who had become rigid. His face an emotionless mask. ‘Mmh’, Harry thought, ‘must have misheard that or something’.

Luna reached out across the table and patted Malfoys and Harrys forehead. “You shouldn’t frown that much or the wrackspurts will come back.”

“Wow, okay”, muttered Malfoy, shaking his head in disbelief.

The rest of dinnertime passed silently until Luna got up and excused herself, “I’m going to look for nargles, now”, and floated away.

When only Harry and Malfoy were left in the Hall, McGonagall approached them to lift the charm.

“I dearly hope, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, that you’ve learned to coexist peacefully. However, not one snarky comment, one jinx or hex against the other nor any kind of physical aggressiveness will be tolerated. If anyone witnesses such, you will immediately hold hands again. I’ve altered the charm, so that every professor in this school can order you to hold hands. Hold that in mind, gentleman.”

When McGonagall finished flicking her wand, Malfoy immediately dropped Harrys hand and fled towards the dungeons.

Harry trudged disappointed towards Gryffindor tower, feeling lost. His hand was cold.

* * *

In the safety of the Slytherin dorms, Draco had a little break down. He really was proud of himself for holding it in the entire day.

Over summer break Draco had realized he had taken a fancy on Potter. Not only was Potter a boy, which his erotic dreams reminded him daily of, but he was his archnemesis, too. One didn’t fancy ones enemy, is just wasn’t done. Especially not when ones name was Draco Malfoy.

He had no hope of his feelings being reciprocated and couldn’t risk anyone ever finding out about them. So, Draco had decided to shove his feelings deep deep down, were they belonged. He wanted to forget about the Boy Who Lived. And it wasn’t even that hard, to Dracos dismay. He didn’t sought Potters attention anymore and therefore had no interaction whatsoever with him. It hurt to realize, that Draco meant nothing to Potter, that he only got into contact with Potter, when Draco initiated it.

Draco was content with ignoring his crush, really. But then Potter had to go and punch him. And Draco could accept having one sided feelings, yes. But crushing on someone who gave a shit to his feelings and punched him, was something Draco couldn’t accept. So, he fought back and then had to held Potters bloody hand the entire day!

Draco nearly died several times today. Potters hand felt so manly, so hot, so perfect in his own. It was like pieces of a puzzle clicking together. In the library Draco couldn’t suppress the urge to get more into Potters proximity and used Potters leg bouncing as an excuse to lean into the Gryffindor, to feel a little more, to breathe in his earthy smell.

The day was torture. Potter had such a curious nature and asked him all kinds of questions. It was hard enough to ignore him for a few hours. He couldn’t do it again, he was sure of it. But he kind of wanted for it to happen again. Maybe Potter would step out of line again, soon. Draco certainly wouldn’t try anything himself.

Groaning in frustration Draco flopped dramatically into his bed.

“You okay, Draco?” asked Greg worriedly, when the blonde wrapped his blanket around him like a cocoon.

“Shut up, Greg!” Draco retorted, annoyed. Can’t one wallow in misery peacefully?

“You know, it’s okay if you’re gay for Potter, Draco.”

“WHAT?” screeched the blonde.

Greg just shrugged as he went to bed himself and said matter of factly “It kind of clicked today, seeing you both hold hands. Explains your obsession over all those years. ‘Night.”

Before Draco could gather himself to answer, Greg was already snoring softly.

* * *

„He’s ignoring me agaaaain“, whined Harry two days after the significant hand holding incident. He thudded his head against the table.

“Shucks for ya”, Ron consoled Harry, his mouth full of bacon and a very small piece of toast.

Hermione looked up from her book and said “Quit moaning, Harry. Maybe you should just talk to him!”

“Because that will work well”, Harry scoffed. “He will just continue ignoring me.”

“Wha’ ifff”, Ron gulped and took an in contrast to his crude eating habits delicate sip of pumpkin juice. “What if you ‘accidentally’ push Malfoy a tiiiiny little bit, so you have to hold hands again?”

“Ron, you are a genius!” Harry beamed.

Hermione huffed. “You can’t be serious. McGonagall established that as punishment not as a way to bully Malfoy into dating you.”

A few minutes later, Harry sat happily in Defence Against the Dark Arts holding the hand of one grumbling Malfoys. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face in half. Malfoys pouting face was really cute.

“See something funny, Potter?” the Slytherin sneered. Draco was minding his own business, ignoring Potter successfully for two full days, slowly being able to forget the feeling of Potters hand in his and then the idiot had to push him right in front of the DADA teacher.

“No”, Harry answered, still grinning. “I’m just in quite a good mood. What about you, Malfoy? What got your knickers in a twist?”

Draco scowled. “You, you twat!”

Harry lay his free hand over his heart. “Malfoy, you hurt me! I swear I am a gentleman and would never touch your underwear before we even kissed! So, whatever twisted your knickers, it couldn’t be me.” He then leaned towards Draco and whispered in his ear “Though I wouldn’t say no, if you wanted me getting in your pants.”

Draco spluttered indignantly and felt his face growing hot. Was Potter flirting with him? The Slytherin risked a glance at the Gryffindor who catched him looking and winked. Draco made a high pitched, garbled sound and turned quickly away.

Sweet Merlin, Potter fucking winked! Draco was dying right now, that couldn’t be real.

As soon as class was over, Draco fled the room. Thank Merlin and every deity there is, he wasn’t punished to handholding the entire day.

Potter prodded him the entire lessons with questions like “Were you always lefthanded?”, “When was the first time you flew on a broom?” and “My favorite color is yellow. Your favorite color is green, right? You know, what else is green? My eyes!”

When the Gryffindor couldn’t get a reaction out of the Slytherin he changed tactics and took his potions homework out. Potter read it to Draco, who started every time Potter read false information aloud. Salazar, Potter was horrendous at potions. Draco flinched so often he was afraid he took permanent damage.

And whenever the DADA professor asked a question, Potter would prompt his own ridiculous answer, smirking sideways at Draco as if to challenge him into pointing out the right answer. Draco nearly cracked and corrected the Gryffindor.

Just what was Potters objective? Why was he suddenly interested in Draco? The blonde had a very bad feeling about it all. That definitely wasn’t the last he had seen of the stubborn Gryffindor.

* * *

“I nearly had him. Every time I said something wrong his eyebrow twitched and one time he even open his mouth to admonish me, I’m sure. Just a bit more and then he’s talking to me. He can’t ignore me much longer!” Harry proclaimed at dinner that day.

He needed just a bit more time to annoy the blonde, just a bit more forced proximity.

“What is the next thing, I can do?” asked Harry staring up at Ron like he held all the secrets of the world in his hands.

“Mmh, how about saying something bad about his hair?” Ron mused.

Harry gasped. “I can’t do that! His hair is perfect! And Draco takes pride in his hair, if I say something, he will hate me until I die a painful death.”

“Ok, ok. Then just say something like ‘posh git’ or ‘wanker’, when a professor is near.”

“Ron, you’re a god!”

Hermione made a “tch”-sound. “Why won’t you ask him out like a mature person? You’re not a kindergartener!”

* * *

Draco was on guard. He really was. But then Potter asked him what kind of hair care he was using. And stupid Potter sniffed at Dracos head, wrinkled his nose amused and announced that it to be something extremely extravagant, because Draco was such a ‘posh git’, right on time when professor Slughorn entered the potions classroom.

Now he was holding Potters stupid hand, being prodded with stupid questions once again. But this time, Potter also rubbed soothing circles with his thumb onto Dracos hand. Draco couldn’t hold it anymore. “Just what do you want from me, Potter?” Draco threw his arms up in exasperation, lifting Potters left arm up, too, so they made an awkward laola-wave.

Harry gave Malfoy an appraising look. Ah, he finally cracked. “I don’t know, what you mean, Malfoy. I’m just trying to do the adult thing and have a conversation with you. But you keep dodging me.”

“And you couldn’t just talk to me like a normal person? You know, we’re forced to hold hands right now, yes?”

Harry squeezed Dracos hand. “As if you would have talked to me otherwise. Would it be that bad to be my friend, Malfoy?”

Draco wanted to say “yes, because friends would never be enough” but held his tongue.

At the end of the lesson Harry said, “It was a pleasure holding your hand, Malfoy. Till next time.” With that he turned to go, but Malfoy grabbed his arm.

“What do you mean, next time? You’re gonna do it again?” Draco was confused. Potter wanted to hold hands and talk?

“Definitely. Scared, Malfoy?” Potter smirked.

Oh, the challenge was on. Draco would hold Potters hands, alright. He would show the Gryffindor he was superior in hand holding. And talking. Draco would talk so much, Potter will be filled with useless knowledge and opinions. “You wish”, he tried to sneer but his mouth twisted into a sincere smile.

* * *

_A few weeks later_

“Should we tell them?” Hermione whispered to Ron.

The two were strolling a few feet behind Harry and Draco who were bickering happily with each other. This morning Harry took Dracos hand naturally without being punished to do so by one of the teachers. Neither boy had noticed the difference in their handholding.

Ron shook his head. “Nah, let them figure it out, themselves” he grinned when Harry interlaced his fingers with Dracos.

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of revising my exam notes I wrote this. I like the idea very much, I'm just not that good with writing an ending. I hope it isn't too abrupt.


End file.
